


Cafe Latte

by auroraphilealis (xrosepetalsx)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bullying, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 02:11:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7295338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xrosepetalsx/pseuds/auroraphilealis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coffee Shop AU. Phil’s always been that awkward boy who never quite belonged, and when he runs off to University, that doesn’t really change; he’s still that weird boy who continuously finds himself being bullied, even as the barista behind the counter. Until Dan comes along.|</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cafe Latte

**Author's Note:**

  * For [INeverHadMyInternetPhase](https://archiveofourown.org/users/INeverHadMyInternetPhase/gifts).



> **Disclaimer** : In no way do I claim that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil.
> 
> I may have had to stalk my prompts tag to come up with inspiration, but [ineverhadmyinternetphase](http://archiveofourown.org/users/INeverHadMyInternetPhase/pseuds/INeverHadMyInternetPhase) was having a bad day, so here’s some coffee shop fluff based off [this comic](http://theinsanityplays.tumblr.com/post/128217466220/alliando-coffee-shop-au-with-phil-as-the-cute) to cheer them up :)) I’m sorry I have no confidence in my reality fics anymore, so I didn’t write domestic fluff, but I hope this at least makes you giggle. Sorry you already went to bed, but it’ll hopefully make your day come morning <3

****Growing up, Phil had always been that awkward boy who never quite belonged - strange beyond belief and a little out of place even amongst his closest friends - but he was loved. He grew up knowing that those around him cared very deeply for him; they kept him afloat when life got hard and when he found himself being bullied by the “popular” kids at school who were just so up themselves they forget they were playing with another human life.

School was never easy, but that didn’t stop Phil from pursuing his education, and as he grew ever taller, ever lankier, and ever stranger, he kept his nose to the books, studying hard in the hopes of getting into a good university, propping himself up with those close friends of his who’d always been a little more outgoing than him cheering him on.

And when his acceptance letter from the University of York arrived, he couldn’t have been happier.

Leaving Rawtenstall wasn’t a difficult experience.

Being the strange kid meant, despite the friendships he’d managed to make, and despite the bonds he’d formed, he’d never really formed any proper attachments to anyone. For all his crushes and the first girl he’d ever kissed, he’d never really found a reason to stick around, and so he’d packed up his bags, promised to text and call, and he’d left to start on a different life.

Though university turned out to be not so different.

“Phil, there’s a spill over by the sofa’s, do you think you could clean that up?” Marzia called out from behind the registers, flashing Phil a guilty smile as another up-themselves university student sent a smirk his way.

Mop bucket already in hand from cleaning the restrooms, Phil merely nodded and made his silent way over to a group of chattering, giggling girls, all looking pristine and well put together as they sent side-long glances Phil’s way.

It didn’t escape his notice when they started to whisper to each other, bursting into raucous laughter seconds after Phil had begun to mop, and he sighed, rolling his eyes as he allowed his fringe to fall into his face.

The girl from the registers made her way over, looking haughty and amused. Pulling his mop to a sudden stop, Phil glanced up at her, hunched over slightly because he was too damn tall for the mop, and opened his mouth seconds too late.

“Careful, it’s very wet!”

The sound of a cursing, angry girl filled the entire coffee shop, her screeches nearly ear splitting as she lobbed herself up and off of the floor only to practically pounce on Phil, her fists aggressive and hard against Phil’s shoulders and ribs.

“You idiot! How could you be so stupid!? Don’t you know you’re supposed to squeeze all the water out before you start mopping? At the very least you could have waited until I was back in my seat. You should be fired, you shouldn’t even be allowed in here you – you – you – freak!”

The coffee shop was entirely silent the minute the panting girl had finished screaming, only the sounds of the coffee machine’s whirring away in the back keeping the silence from being completely mind-numbing.

Phil’s cheeks were pink, and there was a hard lump in his throat that formed the sarcastic reply he was desperate to throw back at the girl, but he held back, merely holding tight to the spot on his arm where the girl had punched him relentlessly.

He was just about to open his mouth to apologize when his manager shouted “Lester! My office, now!” from the other side of the counter, and with a deep sigh, Phil merely turned around and left.

Chris, another employee at the store, shot past him to take over Phil’s task, far too focused and already apologizing profusely to the customer Phil had apparently “assaulted” to even look at Phil, but Marzia was giving him a sympathetic smile from behind the registers, and a student Phil recognized in the far corner closest to the employee entrance was glaring daggers at the group of girls all cooing over the one who’d spilled her drink in the first place.

As he moved to push open the swinging door, the student reached out and snagged ahold of Phil’s sleeve, pulling him to an abrupt stop before he could get any farther.

“I’ve got your back if your manager tries to fire you. I saw the whole thing –“

Phil smiled, but he shook his head as he carefully pulled the man’s hand away from his sleeve.

“It’s okay, he won’t fire me. But thanks, I appreciate the offer.”

Phil didn’t think he missed the disappointment in the man’s warm brown eyes, and as bewildering as it was, he had an office to get too. Marzia pressed a calming hand to Phil’s arm as he passed, and he made his way calmly into his manager’s office, already prepared to tune out the lecture he was sure to get.

Being treated like shit by his peers was nothing new to Phil. Being a barista at a coffee shop in the middle of the university hadn’t helped any, and it was really no surprise to him that, of all the novels and stupid short stories he’d had to read in his creative writing class, his life had never once turned into a nice rom com where another student fell in love with the awkward kid, and whisked him away to a happier life.

Phil was used to being the strange kid; he knew it was never going to change.

But he could embrace it, as best as he could.

\--

At the ridiculously overpriced coffee shop Phil worked at when he wasn’t in class, there were three different area’s to the store: the lounge area at the end farthest from the front counter, the café area with the nicer table settings and small menu’s to peruse until you were sure of what you wanted to order, and the bar area, nestled right up against the counter where unfortunate barista’s like Phil himself prepared the drinks and were forced to make small talk with the patrons of the shop.

Phil was an easy target, uncoordinated and awkwardly tall as he was. Despite his clumsiness, he was the best drink maker in the entirety of the shop, and so he was on the line more often than not.

Unfortunately, events like the previous afternoon were _not_ far and in-between.

“Hey, freak. Did you hear about Mindy? She’s thinking about suing your ass!” came the first comment of the day, not five minutes after Phil’s shift had started. The blender in front of him was fortunately loud, but not quite loud enough to blur out the kid’s voices.

“Yeah, I’m surprised you haven’t already been fired with a threat like that!” another voice chortled, close to the first ones, and nearly as high pitched as Mindy’s the other day.

“I wonder how a court day’ll interfere with your courses. Do you think he’ll even be allowed to stay at the university with a criminal record?”

“Considering there are no grounds for a law suit to begin with, I’m sure he’ll be allowed to stay,” A third voice chimed in, surprisingly familiar and warm in its soft heat.

Phil looked up from the drink he was preparing to meet the same pair of brown eyes from the student he’d recognized yesterday.

His usual seat was next to the swinging door to the other side of the barista counter, so it was a surprise to see the man sitting at the bar directly in front of Phil.

It was clear from his stance that he’d only just slid up next to the girl and the boy who’d been harassing Phil before, and he was tossing Phil a soft smirk, his eyes twinkling with delight.

Unhappy grumbling distracted Phil, and he turned back to his drink with a dark blush on his cheeks.

“And how would you know, prick?” that same shrill voice from earlier piped up. “Mindy says he broke her tailbone. That’s grounds for assault.”

“She slipped on a wet floor; that’s hardly grounds for assault,” the man snorted in reply, and Phil glanced up just in time to see him rolling his eyes.

The girl, clearly a friend of Mindy’s that Phil _almost_ recognized as one of the girls who’d laughed at Phil the other day, was glowering at the man defending Phil, her fists clenched hard around the mug in her hands.

Phil drew a smiley face on the to-go cup he’d just finished preparing, and returned it to the front counter, calling out “Chicago!” as he did so.

“Yeah, but he’s the one who made the floor slippery, and he didn’t even bother to let her know!”

“Actually, he did. The ‘wet floor’ sign was out before he was done, but I’m pretty sure a judge would take Phil’s side if they knew he was still in the middle of mopping up the mess your friend made when she slipped and fell, not to mention he _did_ try and tell her to be careful,” the man stated quite articulately, if Phil did say so himself, and that shut the girl up.

Still fuming, she practically threw her mug onto the counter, and stood up with a loud “Let’s go!” to her friend, just as Phil was finishing up another café mocha, this time in a mug as he placed it at the front counter with a shouted “Margo!” before returning to the line.

The bar was relaxingly quiet then as Phil got started on another frappuccino, turning on the blender in front of him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, flashing the dark haired lad in front of him a small but awkward smile.

“No problem. Just your local law student trying to do another kid a favor,” he replied.

He stayed sipping quietly at his own drink for the majority of the rest of Phil’s shift, and no one bothered to mess with him then.

\--

“Law boys back,” Marzia informed Phil the next day, hastily shoving an already prepared drink into Phil’s hands and shoving him towards the front counter with a knowing smile gracing her lips.

Disgruntled, embarrassed, and annoyed, Phil took the mug and glanced at the overhead sign to see a name and an “for here” order flashing at the top.

“Dan!” he shouted, his voice cracking on the “a” as he shoved it across the front counter, horrified to find that it was for law boy himself. He nibbled at his bottom lip as Dan made his way over, a soft smile on his face, and glanced back at Marzia, who was eyeing up the pastry Phil had hidden under the front desk when he’d come in for his shift a few hours before.

The plan had been for Marzia to gift it to Dan after Phil had explained what had happened during his shift the previous day, but it seemed the tables had been turned on him, and just as Dan was about to turn and possibly take his usual seat, Phil reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

“Wa-wait!” he almost shouted, blushing hard when the sound came out a squeak.

Dan turned back ‘round with a quizzically raised brow, and Phil drew the small plate out quickly, shoving it over as he turned his gaze downward.

“What’s this for?” Dan asked as he graciously took the plate.

“For yesterday,” Phil replied simply, and then he scuttled away, his back hunched awkwardly as he tried to disappear in on himself.

He was back on the line again in no time, nibbling on his bottom lip and praying Dan wouldn’t say anything when he settled back down right in front of Phil’s blender all over again.

“Won’t you get in trouble?” Dan asked, and Phil briefly shut his eyes.

“No,” he replied, and that was that.

\--

He did get in trouble, but Dan didn’t need to know that.

\--

Phil had the next three days off, but when he did come back to work again, Mindy was back, and she was smirking at Phil like she had something to prove. Phil thought he recognized the girl who Dan had gotten off Phil’s back smirking behind her, drinking cool at a mug with fingernails so long Phil could practically feel them scraping down his skin.

“I think law boy missed you,” Marzia teased as she pulled off her apron and clocked out, handing over her shift to Phil.

Phil blushed and rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure he was fine.”

The first half hour was fine. Phil’s manager was practically breathing down his neck, and he was on the register instead of the line, but the girls didn’t make too much of a commotion despite the chesire like grins matching on both of their faces.

It wasn’t until it looked like they were about to leave that something happened.

Mindy tripped over a table leg, and sent her drink flying just close enough to the front counter that Phil didn’t even have a chance to get out of the way before the glass of her mug was sent shattering against the table, spraying pieces that flung themselves well into Phil’s face.

It was the luck of his own glasses that prevented him from quite possibly going blind, but he cried out as he felt the sharp pieces pierce his face, the hot coffee she’d left behind burning a red patch into Phil’s skin.

They laughed as they left, but at least Phil’s manager was kind enough not to yell at him, forcing Benji to clean up the mess while Phil made his way to the bathroom.

He just so happened to glance out the glass doors to find Dan had stopped Mindy and her friend, something like a smirk of his own on his face.

\--

Phil spent the next two days at work covered in small plasters. The glass shards that had hit him hadn’t pierced too hard, but there was something that was apparently more unsightly about uncovered cuts than bandages on the face, so Phil had to wear them while he was at work.

Dan sat in front of him at the bar both days, but he didn’t speak much. All Phil really noticed about him was that he seemed smug, and that he kept glancing up at Phil when Dan thought Phil wasn’t looking – or maybe he knew, and it was on purpose, but that felt so far into the realm of stupid romance novels that Phil couldn’t even began to let himself believe it.

He was that strange kid who’d never even been in a relationship; forget the odds that Dan the law student was flirting with him.

It was nice to look at him, though. He had really soft looking brown hair that almost seemed two-toned; the lights under the bar gave a kind of silky, highlighted feel to it. His face was soft and accentuated by light skin, and every time Phil saw Dan smirk, a small dimple popped on the left side of his cheek.

\--

A couple days later, Mindy appeared in person to give Phil a formal apology, and Phil never saw her again.

\--

“You know, you really should be more careful with that thing,” Dan said, his voice just loud enough it could be heard over the whirring of the blender.

Phil had just taken over Marzia’s shift again, and she’d told him Dan hadn’t come by during Phil’s three days off. He’d been surprised to see him at the bar again.

“Why’s that?” Phil replied shyly, not looking up for fear of blushing.

“The way you pour it into the cups, you’re likely to cut yourself one of these days.”

There was something sweet about Dan’s concern for him.

“It’s too late to avoid that,” Phil said.

Dan snorted and chuckled, the sound raising little goosebumps on Phil’s arms.

“Why am I not surprised.”

\--

“What’s your favorite coffee?” Dan asked out of the blue a few days later, sipping at his own café latte. Phil quirked a brow at him, finally looked up and met his eyes.

“Why?”

“Just curious,” Dan replied.

“Caramel Macchiato.”

“Make me one, then,” Dan demanded, but there was something soft behind his smirk, so Phil quirked a brow and got to work. There was an art to making his favorite drink perfectly sweet, so even though he knew Dan preferred his coffee bitter thanks to his usual choice, he made it exactly the way he would if he were making it for himself.

When he was finished, he arched a brow at Dan, and brought it over to the register to ring Dan up.

The store was quiet, and Phil could afford to leave the line. There were no orders on the overhead signs.

“How’s your face?” Dan asked as Phil rung him up, tilting his head curiously.

“Better,” Phil replied. “I don’t even think it’ll scar.”

“I think you’d look sexy with a scar,” Dan replied, to which Phil blushed scarlet and read out Dan’s total in a voice just a teensy bit too high.

As he reached out to take the money, Dan’s fingers brushed against his skin.

“Seen Mindy around lately?” Dan asked, studying his nails now while Phil scrounged up his change.

Phil’s head whipped up, and he stared at Dan with his mouth hanging open just that tiny bit, wondering, weighing up the possibilities in his mind.

“No,” Phil replied, throat dry.

Rather than replying as Phil handed over his change, Dan merely nodded his head in self-satisfaction, and slid Phil’s drink back over the counter to him.

“Cheers, mate.”

\--

He saw Dan again the very next day, but he was too busy avoiding his gaze to even invite conversation forward as he blushed into every drink he made.

-

Phil was used to being the strange boy who got made fun of just for wearing his glasses on a late Sunday afternoon. He was used to being gawked at because he was so tall and ungangly, for being teased mercilessly and messed about with, and he was used to being bad mouthed on the line.

It took a good month of Dan sitting in that same spot in front of him for Phil to realize that it hadn’t happened in almost as long.

“You must really like our coffee,” Phil said moments after Dan had slid into place in front of him the same day he’d come to the realization.

Immediately, he was flushed a bright red all over again, and he knew even as he spoke that he was trying to push Dan away, but there was little part of him that wanted to test the waters, to poke and prod and see if Dan was really real.

Maybe they’d hadn’t spoken much, but Dan had to have noticed how weird Phil was by now.

“Hmm?” Dan hummed in response, sipping at his “for here” mug that Phil had just prepared for him.

“I said, you must really like our coffee. You’re here nearly every day,” Phil repeated, ducking his head again as he made someone a green tea frappuccino that looked like what Phil wanted to do right now; vomit.

“Mm,” Dan merely replied, and Phil could see he was watching Phil from over the rim of his mug with scrutinizing eyes.

“I mean. You don’t bring course work, or even a book to read, let alone use your phone. Certainly, there’s no other reason you’re here than because you _really_ love our coffee,” Phil continued on. He just couldn’t seem to stop himself, curious and mortified beyond belief.

Surely, surely romance novels never came true.

“Oh, I don’t come here for the coffee,” Dan reassured him as he placed his mug down. “I come here to talk to you.”

Phil really should have been paying more attention to the drink he’d been preparing than the law student sitting in front of him, but for the first time in his almost eight months in the café, he let go of the lid on the blender before he released the button, and the lid popped off, sending the contents flying everywhere.

Phil was too stunned by what Dan had said to even notice his manager screaming his head off from around the corner, uncaring that he’d drenched himself in freezing cold liquid.

“Oh,” he replied simply, cheeks crimson as Dan laughed at him, his chuckle warm and his dimple popping.

For the first time, Dan reached across the counter, and placed his hand over Phil’s.

“Yeah, oh.”


End file.
